Fic For All by the Fifties
by Starshinedown
Summary: A series of unrelated drabbles and one-shots for Twisting the Hellmouth's Fic-for-All prompts, with each entry longer than the previous by fifty words. The pairings and ratings for each will vary.
1. Interest: Willow and Rodney

Twisting the Hellmouth Fic-for-All

Title: Interest  
Pairing: Willow Rosenberg & Rodney McKay  
Words: 150  
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is the creator & owner of Willow Rosenberg and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Rodney McKay and Stargate Atlantis are the brainchildren & property of Brad Wright and Robert C. Cooper. I make no claims of ownership, only mischief.

* * *

"You--! You can't just--! It doesn't _work_ that way!"

"It just did."

He's spluttering, and she finds it endearing. She realizes she ought to find his condescending attitude infuriating, his complete lack of belief in the magic she practices grating, but instead she is hard pressed not to giggle at the egotistical scientist's rants. She finds herself biting her lip in restraint quite a bit in his presence.

She hasn't been interested in a man since Oz, but she thinks that maybe, just maybe, if they can get past the science-versus-magic arguments, she could be interested in Rodney. He's adorable, and geeky, and she doesn't intimidate him (a quality she appreciates now that she's made a name for herself as a powerful witch on Earth).

First she really must find a way to stop the man from all the loud exclamations and angry hand waving whenever she's near.

* * *

Author's note: This is my first contribution to the fic-for-all madness. I'm working on limiting myself to certain lengths, so with each entry I'll increase the word count by fifty. It is a challenge for myself.


	2. Death is so passe: Dawn and Amanda

Twisting the Hellmouth Fic-for-All

Title: Death is so… passé.  
Pairing: Dawn Summers & Amanda (from Highlander)  
Words: 200  
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is the creator & owner of Dawn Summers and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Panzer-Davis Productions is the owner of Amanda and Highlander. I own neither the franchises nor the characters.

* * *

"When you say 'forever,' do you mean--"

"Forever. Yes. The end of time, if you can keep your head attached to your neck that long."

"Oh."

"Is that the only question you have?"

"No. I'm still stuck on 'forever.' That's such…it's such a long time. I'll see all my friends die."

"About that."

"About _what_? Don't tell me there is more bad news, Amanda."

"Living forever is bad news? Hmph."

"I've met enough people who have outlived all they knew; yes, living forever is bad news."

"Your friends saw you die, heard the doctor pronounce you dead at the hospital. You can't go back, Dawn."

"The hell I can't. I am not leaving my sister, not when I'm perfectly fine."

"Dawn--"

"No! You don't understand. My sister, she'll be ok with it, at least the coming-back-from-the-dead part. Not so much the life of violence I'll be leading. We have interesting lives. Coming back from the dead is practically passé at this point."

"Passé? Really? A family of necromancers, are you?"

"No no no. Necromancy is of the bad. Learned that lesson years ago. It's just that we have trouble staying dead in our circle of friends."

"…"

"Amanda?"

* * *

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	3. Smile: Forrest and Mary Jane

Twisting the Hellmouth Fic-for-All

Title: Smile  
Pairing: Forrest Gates & Mary Jane Watson (Spider-Man)  
Words: 250  
Disclaimer: I don't own Forrest or Mary Jane. Joss Whedon and Marvel Comics hold those honors.  
Author's note: I'm pretending the age difference between Forrest & Mary Jane will work for this little ficlet. I figure that Mary Jane is practically immortal, since she's been written about for decades now. Right?

* * *

When Forrest was a kid, he traveled with his parents to New York City. He remembers looking up, up, _up_ at all the buildings. At the time, he thought that his dad's joke about "Forrest in a forest of concrete" quite clever, though when he got older he decided it was a lame play on his name.

They saw the Statue of Liberty, read the names written at Battery Park, saw the city from the Empire State Building, and went to the wonderland of FAO Schwartz.

What Forrest remembers best from that trip, though, isn't tourist traps. Forrest remembers a nothing little diner and his mother's enthusiasm for 'local cuisine.' He remembers a beautiful redheaded waitress, Mary Jane, and that she _smiled_ at him.

Forrest is sure that he remembers this woman from his childhood so well because her smile was genuine. He'd been at an age when he'd realized that adults patronized kids (not that he called it that at the time; he only knew that he didn't like the way grownups often talked to him). Her honest interaction with him had been the highlight of the trip.

Fifteen years later, when he's under cover of darkness hunting HSTs in Sunnydale, he finds his mind wandering back to that friendly waitress. Is she still working at that diner? Did she have a good life? Does she know that monsters wait in the dark?

He does this job, he knows, so that people like her never have to find out.

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	4. First Meeting: Angel and Hermione

Twisting the Hellmouth Fic-for-All

Title: First Meeting  
Pairing: Angel and Hermione Granger (HP)  
Words: 300  
Disclaimer: Angel is Joss Whedon's. Hermione is J.K. Rowling's. I claim neither.  
Author's note: Let's pretend that Angel survived LA and is on good terms with the new incarnation of the Watcher's Council, ok? Hermione is probably a bit out of character. My apologies.

---

The young woman was standing in front of him, gaping. He could see that she had something, probably many somethings, to say, but just then all the brunette, bushy-haired woman could manage was to stare at him, mouth open, eyes huge with shock.

Must be a Watcher trainee, he thought. She didn't feel like one of the slayers called by Willow; they had a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that marked them for what they were.

She stuttered and restarted several times before spluttering: "You're Angelus! I recognize you from a daguerreotype in _The Scourge: Terror Across the Continent_!"

This, he told himself, is why I hate visiting London. Too many people know who I am.

He made sure his expression was friendly and open before he responded. "I was Angelus, yes. _Was_. Don't they teach that little fact?"

The girl frowned.

For someone who knew of Angelus, once past her initial shock she was remarkably free of fear. Angel saw that she had a long carved stick in her hand, and that detail stuck in his head. The title she'd referenced wasn't one he'd seen in the Council's archives. It sounded like the sort of title used in the wizarding world he'd learned to avoid.

Magic.

Stick in her hand.

Oh, hell. She was one of _those_ witches. Different than Willow, and probably not up on current happenings.

As if to reinforce this thought, the witch raised her wand to point it squarely at his chest. "Vampires don't simply stop being vampires."

He nodded. "True, but with magic, we can be given souls, and therefore consciences. I haven't been on a murdering rampage in over a century."

She remained suspicious. "I'll lower my wand, and you won't kill me?"

"You don't attack me, I don't attack you," he promised.


	5. Guest: Giles and Elrond

Twisting the Hellmouth Fic-for-All

Title: Guest  
Pairing: Rupert Giles & Elrond (LotR)  
Words: 350  
Disclaimer: Elrond and all things Lord of the Rings belong to the Tolkien estate. Giles and BtVS belong to Joss Whedon. I own neither property.

* * *

Elrond walked through the clearing to the opposite end, where their visitor was resting on a rock outcropping. He had his elbows propped on his knees and his hands clasped loosely between them as he stared off into the forest surrounding Rivendell. Elrond could tell that the man before him did not actually see the graceful trees or vibrant undergrowth; what he was viewing was all in his mind, memories of those he had left behind when he had come to Middle Earth.

He felt for this mortal. In the two years since he'd been brought into the valley--a rough collection of broken bones and bloody flesh--by a patrol returning from the Misty Mountains, he had talked long with Elrond, Celebrían, and Glorfindel about his home and the young people he viewed as his children. Though the place his friend hailed from was dangerous and life there short, he longed to go back to his self-made family and his duty of protecting the innocent against the encroaching darkness. All sympathized with him; they knew well the perpetual battle against shadow.

Not moving or otherwise acknowledging Elrond's approach, he spoke quietly, his voice resigned and thick with unspoken emotion. "You've come to tell me there is no way home."

"I have." Elrond placed his hand on the man's shoulder in silent support. For a long moment, both were quiet.

"I would that I could bring you news of a way home. Mithrandir and Galadriel agree, however. What magic there was that sent you here is not available to us to return you to your home. I am sorry, Rupert. I had hoped we could help you."

"The Lady Celebrían invited me to dine with you this evening. If I may have some time to gather myself beforehand?"

Elrond smiled gently. "Of course." His guest would need time to grieve the loss of his home. He hoped, however, that the mortal would adjust and eventually call Rivendell home. Mortal or not, he was a fellow warrior against evil, and he, his wife and his children, viewed him as a friend.


End file.
